Glee-viously
by Micro Magic
Summary: When Blaine and Kurt met, they fell in love with each other and never quite moved on when they broke up. In the end, their love brought them back together, and Blaine asked Kurt to marry him. He said that they were meant to find each other and fall in love over and over again in every lifetime. What if it was true? Who would you think they were in their previous lives?
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

**LIMA, OHIO STATE, UNITED STATES. NOVEMBER 2010**

Kurt Hummel, a lesser valued member of the school's glee club, New Directions, was given the mission to spy on the club's competition: the Warblers. The competitive glee club located at private institution, Dalton Academy. He didn't have an outfit that to blend in with the school's uniforms, but it was casual to wear a red tie at any private school. Other than that, it was easy to disguise yourself as a new student so long as you have a long leather jacket to wear. It wasn't like anyone would notice.

Okay, that was a lie. People did notice. At his school, outside his club's Choir room, people noticed. Unfortunately, it was not the kind of attention that made one feel welcome. Everywhere he went, he was treated with disrespect. Bullies lurked everywhere in the halls, just waiting to splash his face with ice-cold slushies. It wasn't just him, either. Everyone in his club was bullied that way, even though they had some of the school's top students with them: Finn Hudson, his soon-to-be stepbrother who was also the football team's captain, McKinley Titans; Noah Pucker (a.k.a. Puck), who was the football team's co-captain; Quinn Fabray, captain of the cheerleading squad and head of the Celibacy Club; Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce, top members of the cheerleaders; and Mike Chang and Sam Evans, who were also members of the football team. Everyone came together when Spanish teacher, Mr. William Schuester, formed the glee club. In spite of everything that happened within the club, everyone eventually overcome their issues against each other and became friends. Rachel Berry, captain of the glee club and Finn's girlfriend, was the diva nightmare who could never think for anyone other than herself. When Quinn got knocked up by Puck last year, she told everyone that Finn was the father. Rachel was the first to find the truth. She told Finn, of course, but it was only because she wanted to break them up and have Finn to herself. And now, Quinn's baby is placed in the good hands of Rachel's equally ambitious mother. This blew over in a matter of months. But things hadn't been easy. Glee club had been a fun Place to be in, a group where all the misfits found themselves able to find joy in singing and dancing, and a Place to express their feelings. Unfortunately, competition was also right around the corner. They lost at Regionals last year, and if it hadn't been for the surprisingly unexpected help from Coach Sue Sylvester, they would've all dispatched and gone back to where they were before: be a bunch of individuals who saw each other as enemies rather than friends.

This year was even more important. If New Directions lost at Sectionals, the competition year will be over, along with the entire club. They have to win this. So to learn more about one of their fiercest competitions, Puck told Kurt to sneak into Dalton Academy and check out the "Warblers". Not that he was particularly glad to act as spy. Other than Rachel, he was clearly the most talented member in the group and yet no one treated him with any respect whatsoever. Everyone in the group was talented in singing and performing. His talents excelled most of them. But no one seemed to care about his talents. Just the other day, the boys dissed his fashion ideas for the boys vs. girls mashup. This week, the girls were to sing masculine songs, like rock'n'roll, and the boys were to sing numbers originally intended for the female gender. And even though his ideas were brilliant, no one took his plan seriously, and Puck even suggested that he 'make himself useful' by spying on the Warblers. On the bright side, at least that meant he wouldn't have to face the Wrath of Karofsky, the football quarterback who couldn't spend a single day without making Kurt's life a ballad of living hell. He tried to avoid the burly boy, but whenever they passed each other on the halls, he would knock Kurt into a locker or shove him against a wall so hard that his body ached. But what the guy mostly did was make him miserable from the inside, which somehow felt tenfold compared to the physical pain. Kurt could only assume this abusive treatment came from his hatred of homosexuality, and he was the only gay boy who was out at his school. And Karofsky simply hated the idea of having a gay kid around, just like the rest of his team.

As he walked into the halls of Dalton, the Victorian architecture drew him in. The hallways were ancient Victorian style with paintings that almost looked like Solimena's craft. The air felt different. Quaint. Pleasant. He remembered seeing such designs on TV shows and magazines, but this was the first time he saw them with his own eyes. The designs looked like a mixture of an American courthouse and an ancient mansion.

Students marched through the halls and went down a grand spiraling staircase, everyone in the same direction. The staircase had a round skylight shining right above it. Mirrors hung on the top level, the reflective light brightened the place almost like a bright summer day outside. There were so many boys that Kurt wondered if the school was built to house homosexuality.

A black-haired boy with somewhat broad shoulders walked past him on his way to the same direction. Knowing that he had a mission at hand, he called out to the boy. "Oh, 'scuse me." The boy turned around, revealing the most beautiful face Kurt had ever seen. Deep, thoughtful green eyes mixed perfectly with his pale skin and jet black hair geled back of his head. The dark blue uniform and black-and-red tie only somehow highlighted his complexion. "Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I-I'm new here."

The boy's lips curled up into a smile. A very handsome one, too.

"My name's Blaine," he said and extended his hand. His voice had a vocal touch to it.

"Kurt." They shook. "So what exactly's going on?"

"The Warblers. Every now and then, they throw an impromptu performance. Tends to shut the school down for a while."

_And everyone's going to watch it?_ Kurt thought. That never happened at McKinley. They had performed at school assemblies and annual drama performances, but no one cared about what they did. No one, not even the geeks, paid attention to them. What Blaine said about the Warblers and from the way everyone practically marched through the hall to watch their performance, it sounded like they were popular. "So, wait. The glee club here is kind of cool?"

"The Warblers are like 'rockstars'," answered Blaine.

Rockstars? That sounded like an overstatement.

Blaine reached out and grabbed his hand. "C'mon. I know a shortcut." And just like that, Blaine yanked him away from the stone-hard stairs and into a different hallway. While he took in the high wall paintings, the shining crystals of a chandalier and furniture placed against the walls, it was really Blaine's strong grip that stole most of his attention. Warmth sent shivers down his arm and traveled all the way up to his spine. He comprehended the feeling for a short second. Quick and brief as the walk was, it felt slow... and long-lasting. Like they could go on forever.


	2. First Life: Chapter One

**FIRST LIFE**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**DOUGLAS, ISLE OF MAN, UNITED KINGDOM. JULY 1658**

James Waltham walked through the glade toward the lake to fetch water. The morning air breezed with what felt like refreshment from sea water. James paced down by the lake, personally rejoicing in the celebration that will take place in Castletown in a matter of days. Ever since the English victory of the Confederate Wars, there hadn't been much celebration in the kingdom. Victory, however, was not able to relieve James and his mother the painful loss of his father. He was recruited as one of the soldiers in the war, and unfortunately lost his life in 1650. James would have joined the army in the stead of his father, but he had insisted that he remained home with mother. Also, he had been 9 years old back then. According to the law, age 15 was the applicable age for recruitment. It was like God had planned his birth early to make sure his father died at the exact wrong time.

"James, good noon," a familiar rough voice called and snapped James out of his reverie.

He looked up and recognized the figure standing several feet ahead, his face partly foreshadowed by the high trees in the glade. "Good noon, Raphael," he greeted back. "Is everything going well at home?"

It had been some time since he last saw Raphael. The man had gotten wedded the year before, and he heard from acquaintances that his wife was carrying a child. Raphael approached with an axe in hand. "Everything's going smoothly," he answered. "How about you, James?" It has been sometime since we last talked."

"You mean since the wedding."

Raphael chuckled humorously and nodded thoughtfully. "It had been a year. How's your mother?"

James nodded casually. "She's fine, thank you."

The two shared a brief conversation before Raphael departed to join the other woodsmen. James proceeded to walk down to the lake. The breeze of summer daytime blew at his face. The flush of warmth touched his skin like the smell of lilies. _He's always with us_. His mother's voice echoed in his head. The thought of summer warmth brought a slight sense of melancholy and he didn't need to know why. The reason was always the same. His father. Mother had told him to think of the wind and the times of year as his presence. So that he'd know that wherever they were, he was always with them. The need to sing about it swirled around his chest, readying to burst through his throat. His mother taught him to express himself in songs when he was young. And he wanted to do that now.

_"A summer so free, I always had it with me."_

_"Don't have a father to look up to. __But mother always said he was..."_

_"Good."_

_"The wind whispers to me, say__ing he's with me."_

_"The heat is his embrace, the wind is his comfort touch."_

_"But it's not enough. I want more, is that too much?"_

_"In daytime, he walks with me. In the night, he comes to me."_

_"Smell the flowers to feel his heart, feel the wind to feel his comfort. His comforting touch."_

_"When summer ends, he comes back"_

_"As rain and snow. In the wind he says: __'James, don't ever be sad.'"_

_"The wind whispers to me, say__ing he's with me."_

_"The heat is his embrace, the wind is his comfort touch."_

_"But it's never enough. I want more, is that too much?"_

_"Is that too... __much?"_

Down by the riverbank, he knelt down and ran the wooden bucket through the stream, filling it with fresh water. _"I want more, is that too... muuuuuuch."_ With a low sigh, the song came to an end, but not his depression.

* * *

Seamus O'Brien peaked out the storage room window of the cargo ship. The vessel slowed, coming close to English shore. Filthy English territory. The country where the English Parliament originated and conquered his home country. Never once in his life had Seamus thought of stepping foot onto the grounds of his enemy. He never would have snuck on the cargo ship were it not for Maggie. Of all people, why did Maggie have to insult the English sheriff? Not that he didn't despise them himself. The mere thought of the English sent a pure sense of boiling hatred running through his veins. His brother Finnegan had lost his life years earlier, during the final period of the Confederate Wars. He was 10 years old then. His brother was 16 and so of warrior age. Maggie was engaged to Finnegan, and he had sworn to return for them to wed. But in the end, he was lost to the war, and in the following the Irish had lost to the English. And now, nothing kept the enemy from walking their country more freely, and whichever side opposed the other always escalated to violent situations that often ended in more deaths for the Irish.

But what had made him feel sick to the stomach was stepping into enemy lands. If it were of his choice, Seamus would have stayed where he was and defended his village. But it wasn't his choice. Maggie had insulted the English county sheriff, and so had been arrested by the officers and taken to 'court' on the Isle of Man. In which case, it was written in his duty to rescue his now bride-to-be from whatever punishment awaited: execution, or worse, shame. So sneaking into fiendish country was really the only choice. It had been a half-day since they snuck onboard the English cargo ship that, according to Seamus's resources, transported shipment to the Isle of Man, the small island where his wife-to-be was taken. No doubt she was brought to the dungeons of Castletown. The vessel took the troops to Douglas, which was only a few hours away. There will be enough time to find Maggie and sneak back to Ireland shore.

"We're nearly there," whispered Allan, one of the three mates who accompanied him on this rescue mission. "You should get ready."

The men put on their English outfits: deep brown sailor vests and jackets as black as Seamus's hair. Seamus only had a second to look at himself in the little mirror hanging loosely on the wall by thick spokes: he looked like a pirate of some sort, even though the designs were anything but. They walked out to the cargo deck where other shipmates were readying for shore; the sails pulled back and the barrels readied to unload. The docks were up close, and Seamus knew that he was getting closer to Maggie. Anchor thrown off deck, thick ropes readied, and boarding planks brought out, everyone readied for departure. No matter the risks, there was no turning back now. They were on enemy lands and the only thing to do was go through.

* * *

James had dropped the bucket at home and finished his chores in the stall before heading to town to meet with the circus. Everyone was rejoicing with high-pitched sounds of celebrations when he reached the village as if some kind of news had been given. They were saying out loud about something, but James was too busy to listen; he looked past the crowd and found the corner across the Town hall, where the other crew members were also dancing of rejoice.

"Good noon, everyone," James said. "What's today's news?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" said Samuel, his clammy blond hair clung to his forehead and almost covered his eyes. "Lord Thomas Fairfax is to be wed in Castletown!"

"Lord Fairfax? When?" James's own lips curled up as the enthusiasm made connection.

"Next Thursday. And the greatest news for _us_ -" He waved an arm from himself to the crew members. "- is that we are appointed for performance that day. Not in the castle, but we are to put on a show in the city. So you can see, it is our time to make the Gleeful Clems known to the rest of the isle. The ceremony shall be our greatest performance of all times." He spoke dreamily. The way his lips moved oddly reminded James of trout. The memory of trout practically clutched in his mind; fishing trout with his father was one of the few memories he had of him.

He pushed that memory away and joined the townsfolk in their celebration. To everyone, the news was royal notification. To the group, it was their chance to make themselves known in the ceremonial performance.

Mr. Franklin approached and shouted to get their attention. "Everyone, we need to start rehearsals. The wedding is next Thursday, which meant we only have days to prepare before that. We will rehearse tonight!"

Everyone cheered, including James.

* * *

Seamus, Allan, Keenan and Trevor rolled the barrels from the ship carefully as they followed the other shipmates' moving patterns. It was smooth-sailing so far, the situation. They were all wearings either hoods or long hats to conceal their faces from shipping checkers, who were verifying the shipment. Seamus, while devicing a way to sneak away unnoticed, rolled a barrel onto a carriage with Allan and were about to another one when a voice sounded in the distance. It was Keenan's voice.


End file.
